The War of Claws and Fangs
by MDBasementLlama
Summary: The clans of the lake are at war. There is no peace. There is no Starclan. Only one thing matters now and that's survivor. Until one young kit receives a dire message. It's time for the clans to come back together, or suffer the consequences in the Dark Forest.


War is a strange thing to live through. Some may live a normal, happy life, until the tragedy strikes and everything is thrown into disarray. Or, perhaps one might be lucky enough to completely skip that time in their ancestors' lives, living peacefully, without fighting or chaos.

For some, war is all they know. They were born into it, and they will die during it.

There was only one cat in all of Thunderclan who remembered life during a peaceful time. It had been many, many moons, since a kit was born who wouldn't have to fight their entire life.

Every time Robinsong told her story, something about it changed. She never told the same story twice. Many of the other clan members wouldn't listen to her tales, saying she was going senile in her old age. Her fur had once been pitch black, with dark ginger, nearly red, patches. Now, her muzzle and tail were graying, but her green eyes would never go dull with age.

"It was so long ago, my dear." She would always start when she laid outside the elder's den and the apprentices and kits would come up to hear her stories. "I was just an apprentice at the time." Sometimes she said she was a kit, sometimes she was an apprentice. "It was all Riverclan. It was Riverclan!" Or maybe it was Shadowclan. Seldom, she said it was Windclan. "So arrogant! That's what those cats are. They're arrogant! They thought they should have full power over the entire lake and the land around it. But we didn't want that. The clans have always been seperate. It's who we are. But they wouldn't listen. And they were willing to get what they wanted by force."

At this point in the story, she would gasp loudly and shake her head, as if remembering that exact moment.

"It only got worst from there, my dear." She continued, a sadder tone in her voice. "When Starclan looked down upon us, and saw all this fighting, they abandoned us. Starclan does not watch over us anymore, my dear."

"I can't believe you actually believe that old crow." The apprentice was muscular with dark ginger fur and piercing amber eyes. He lashed his tail in annoyance at the two she-cats, one spread out on a rock, sunbathing under an opening in the trees while the other was gathering leaves in her mouth.

The forest was clorful with new life. Leaves and flowers were budding from the trees with the promise of warmer whether to come at the end of leaf-bare. The sky was cleared of clouds, letting the sun beat down on the forest, bathing the cats in light.

"Don't be rude, Redpaw." Moonpaw had pitch black fur with a few patches of dark ginger and white paws. Her eyes were bright blue eyes. She was stretched out on the rock, laying on her back with her eyes closed. "Robinsong is an elder."

"And she's been crazy since she was a kit." Redpaw snapped back to his littermate. "Shouldn't she be dead by now? No one's been alive long enough to remember the Moons Before."

The Moons Before was the term modernly used to refer to the moons of peace back before the conflict began. Tales and legends came from this time. Moonpaw's favorite was of the Great Battle, in which Starclan came to fight along side the clans cats of the lake. Moonpaw loved the old stories the elders loved to tell about the evil Tigerstar and his army of Dark Forest cats, or the kind leader Firestar.

But Moonpaw's all time favorite tale was of Squirrelflight, Firestar's daughter. As an apprentice, she helped lead the clan cats to their home by the lake, away from the beasts that tore apart the ground and ate up cats.

She didn't realize she was day dreaming until there was a tail flicking against her shoulder.

"Moonpaw?" It was the other she-cat, named Maplepaw. She was the medicine cat apprentice and Moonpaw's best friend, with a light ginger pelt and friendly green eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Done with your herbs?" Moonpaw asked.

"Yep. Let's head back to camp now."

Redpaw was already turning towards the direction of the Thunderclan camp. He walked with his head held high and his tail swishing behind him.

The other two apprentice followed close behind. Tasting the air, Moonpaw could sense her mentor close by. While they gathered herbs, he'd gone off to hunt. These were dangerous times and it was apprentices were always advised to take at least one warrior along with them. But considering there were three of them, her mentor had thought they'd be fine. Especially this early after sunrise.

Redpaw stopped when the shrubs nearby suddenly shook with movement, causing Moonpaw to also run into him. "Relax, mousebrain, it's just Loudmorning." She hissed in annoyance.

A tom with a dark gray pelt and amber eyes stepped out of the brush, a vole in his jaws. He dropped it to speak. "Greetings. Did you find what you needed?"

"Yes, Loudmorning." Redpaw and Moonpaw said in unison. Maplepaw simply nodded, her mouth full of her herbs.

He smiled and turned in the direction they were already walking, grabbing the vole up in his jaws again to carry.

Arriving at the camp, the group took turns bushing through the brambles that hid the entrance to the Thunderclan camp. Walking through those vines was like walking into another world. The forest was always quiet this early in the day, the birds too tired to begin their songs yet. But inside the camp, everything was alive. Warriors were waking their apprentices for the day and patrols were being assigned. Kits scurried from the nursery to play, their mothers drowsily following them into the cool air of the early morning.

Over by the elders den, two she-cat were laying out in the sun, sharing tongues.

"Moonpaw." Loudmorning addressed her, touching his tail to her shoulder. Redpaw had gone in the direction of the apprentice den and Maplepaw to the medicine den at the far side of camp. "I don't believe we're on any patrols for the day, so could you go take care of the elders?"

"Sure, thing." Moonpaw purred in response. Unlike the other apprentices, Moonpaw quite enjoyed cleaning the elders of ticks or changing their bedding. Firstly, it gave her something to do on a slow day without training or patrolling. Secondly, there was never an instant she could recall where she walked into the elders' den and they were always willing to share some sort of story, whether the apprentices wanted them to or not.

Moonpaw went to the medicine den first to get the mouse bile she needed. She found Maplepaw already there, sorting in the newest herbs stocks. A black tabby was curled up on a bed of moss. She recgonized him as Blackmoon. He was still battling with the aftereffects of greencough from leaf-bare.

Maplepaw glanced over from where she was pushing herbs into their storing slots. "Hey, Moonpaw. What's up?"

"Hey. Got any mousebile?"

"Yep! Hang on." Maplepaw replied before disappearing deeper into the into the herb storage. She came back with a stick covered in moss that had been dabbed in mousebile.

Moonpaw turned away, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "How can you just keep that stuff lying around? It smells awful."

"It's not so bad once you get used to it." Maplepaw said, putting the stick down so Moonpaw could pick it up. Moonpaw could never understand why Maplepaw was always so interested in the work of a medicine cat. She spent more time watching the Thunderclan medicine cat, Willowspring, than playing with her littermates.

Moonpaw swished her tail in departure and pushed out of the medicine den.

Maplepaw wasn't very close with her two sisters, Blossompaw and Honeypaw. Moonpaw, on the other hand, couldn't imagine not having the relationship she had with her brothers.

Walking back to the elder's den, Moonpaw noticed the a lighty colored tail entering. She smiled around the stick in her mouth.

Stepping inside, she found her other littermate, Rowanpaw, sitting by one of the elders with a ball of moss beside him. He was searching through one of the elder's fur, a light brown tabby with glossy, blind blue eyes. Lightfur was an old queen, who had lost her only litter kits during her youth. Robinsong had told Moonpaw that the two kits had been carried off by a falcon. When Lightfur tried to save them, the hawk had slashed her face, rendering her blind.

Rowanpaw was very careful while he took away Lightfur's ticks, careful not to spook the old she-cat. Lightfur's sister, Poppyleaf, laid beside her, letting Lightfur touch her nose to her shoulder. The two were talking lowly, their voices inaudible.

Moonpaw left them be. She was delighted to greet Robinsong with a flick of her tail and sit beside the she-cat.

The old she-cat purred in happy greeting. "Good morning, my dear." She said slowly. "Is your father up yet? I've been meaning to speak with him."

"I haven't seen him yet today, Robinsong." Moonpaw dipped her head politely before beginning to push apart Robinsong's fur, searching for ticks.

Another reason Moonpaw liked Robinsong so much was because she was the mother to her father. The old she-cat had only one litter of three kits. Lightningstar was the last survivor of her kin.

"Ah." Robinsong cooed. "That's alright, my dear. I'll go find him later. He said he'd take a walk to the lake with me today."

"You're too old for that now, Robinsong." Poppyleaf teased.

The apprentices liked to joke that Robinsong would never die. Every time Starclan came to collect her, she'd growl at them to let her nap.

Robinsong laughed. "I may be old, but I can still outrun even Lightningstar. He'll have to keep up with me. Rowanpaw agrees."

Rowanpaw was momentarily surprised at being addressed. He looked up and nodded silently, before returning to his tick searching.

The she-cats all shared a laugh.

Moonpaw felt relaxed within the elder's den. It wasn't full of sickness or fear. There was no war within the elder's den. Only stories and jokes and friends. And when Moonpaw listened to the elders, she felt as if she was in an entirely different time period. There was no war. Only four clans, trying to survive along with each other and starry ancestors looking over them.

But that was gone now. Every time Moonpaw padded out of the elder's den, her shoulders were rise and her fur stand up, making her seem larger and dangerous. This was a war. There was no Starclan. Not after the sins Thunderclan and every other cat on the lake had commited. Firestar, Bramblestar, Sandstorm, even cats like Squirrelflight or Jayfeather had long ago wandered among the stars, off to find a new home away from the constant bloodshed.

"We don't go to Starclan." Redpaw would say. "When we die, we go to the Dark forest to rot for the rest of eternity. That's why we send the other clans there before they can send us."

 **So, it's been years since I've worked on this story at all. I know this first chapter isn't that good, but I want to get past the introduction to the juicy stuff. If you're new to this in any way, this is a reboot to one of my older stories that I seriously needed to fix up.**


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